(I decided to go happy)
Alex's POV:
The room smelled of antiseptics. To be fair, the whole vicinity smelled like antiseptics, but this room especially. I sat in a hard, straight-backed wooden chair in the small hospital room. My leg bounced up and down nervously as I looked at the patient lying on the cot.
His skin was a papery white, deathly pale. His beautiful curly hair fell in a light brown cushion all around his head. His eyes were closed, and there were bandages encircling his neck and wrists. He was so beautiful, even when he was mere inches from death.
Golden sunlight slanted in through the single small window, illuminating and highlighting the particles of dust floating around in the stagnant air. The honey-colored light stretched out in a long rectangle on the sterile white tiles of the floor. Cars rushed by on the streets below. Normal people, going about their normal, everyday lives.
A small cough disturbed the still air. Instantly, my attention shifted back to John. His closed eyes were now scrunched tightly, his nose wrinkled. His hands were clenched in fists, wrinkling the baby blue fabric of the cot's blanket. He emits a small groan. I quickly scoot my chair closer to the edge of John's bed.
"Hurts..." he mumbles. "Am I dead yet?" Pain stings in my chest, rising up and burning my throat and the backs of my eyes at how desperate his question sounded.
"No, Johnny," I whisper. "You're in the hospital. The pain is probably the drugs wearing off." He groans again and blinks his beautiful, forest green eyes open.
"Alex? Why are you here?"
"Because I'm the one who called the ambulance." I left out the part where I had to pretend to be John's fiancé.
"Why did you call the ambulance?"
"Because you were hurt, John."
"How did you find me?"
"I, umm, found your note." John closes his eyes and nods.
"You came home earlier than normal, then?"
"Yeah," I said, surprised. "How'd you know?"
"Because you wouldn't have found me alive if you had come home at the normal time."
"I..."
"You know why I did it, then?" He stared straight ahead, looking at nothing. I bit my lower lip, recalling John's note. He had written how he felt invisible, like a burden to everyone. How it would be better for everyone if he just disappeared. And, lastly, how he needed to leave, because he was in love with me.
"Yes, I know." John turned his head to look at me.
"Then leave," he said.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, confused. Tears started to form in John's eyes.
"Leave. Please. You know how I feel, and I know that the feeling isn't mutual, so please leave and spare me the pain and you the awkwardness. Please." I looked at him, taking in his beauty. His wide, jade green eyes, pleading me to leave him alone. How can I tell him, when he obviously doesn't want me? But maybe he does, and I should tell him. I take a deep breath.
"John, I-" He cut me off.
"No, Alex. I don't want to hear it. Please." I closed my mouth. I stole all my nerves and leaned in slowly. My Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you.
"Alex, what are you doing?" John asks, confused. I leaned in the rest of the way, and softly pressed my lips to his. Sparks flew, and John made a surprised little squeak. After what seemed like an eternity, I slowly pulled away. John gaped at me.
"That was... that was..." I smiled at him.
"I think you will find, John," I said, "that the feeling most certainly is mutual."
(Hello please tell me how terrible this is thank you for reading it baaaiiiiii)
